The Metalocalypse is Over?
by MsKatieK
Summary: Dethklok's position and fame is threatened by a new star band 'Stay in Vegas'. How will Nathan, Pickles, Toki, Skwissgaar, Murderface and Ofdensen deal with the new band? R&R, please.
1. Ch1 Fake Band Meeting

Chapter 1 - Fake Band Meeting

The five members of Dethklok were lying around the main room in various positions.

"Uuuuuuuuhhhhhh…" Nathan let out one of his longest sighs, since they'd gotten the blues.

"Shut up, douchebag," Pickles groaned, "I'm hung over. Yer groanin' seems like a volcano eruption to me. 'n I'm sorry 'bout the 'douchebag'. You know I've got… got low blood sugar."

"Hello," Charles greeted, stepping out of the shadows.

"Mmph," Skwissgaar tried to muffle the sound of Ofedsen's voice with a pillow.

"Comes on, Charlies," Toki pleaded, "Lets us sleeps."

"Yeah, you robot! Leth ush shleep!" Murderface yelled obnoxiously.

"Dood," Pickles said.

"You never leth ush have any fun!"

"Dood," Pickles repeated a little louder.

"You're trying to turn ush into robotsh too!"

"Dood, Murderface, shut up!"

"Thank you, Pickles," Charles tried to speak again.

"Uuuuuhhh," Nathan let out another stressed sigh, "Hey. You. Can you come back like tomorrow or something. 'cause I really need to sleep, okay?"

"I'm afraid I can't do that. Band meeting in my office in half an hour," he said.

"You does knows you haves to ams be ins a bands to calls a bands meetings, don'ts yous?" Skwissgaar said, annoyed.

"Fine. Meeting in my office. Be there."

"Uuuhhhhhhh…" Nathan sighed, "So, do we show up or not?"

"He'll find us anyway. We might as well do as he says," Pickles gave up.

"Never!" Murderface yelled, "I will never obey the butler!"

"Nathan, dood, make him shut up!"

"UUUUUUHHHHHH…"

_Half__an__hour__later__._

"I'm afraid the news isn't good," Charles said. Honestly, he hadn't expected Dethklok to show up at all, so sitting and glaring at him was a rather good start.

"What? You're cashtrating ush?" Murderface yelled, "Or maybe you're jusht kicking me out?!"

"Shut up, Murderface. Yer paranoid," Pickles said.

"Paa-ra-nood…"

"Paa-re-niii…"

"SHUT UP BRAINLESS FECKS!" Pickles exploded when Skwissgaar and Toki tried (and failed) to pronounce the word. "Sawry… Sawry…" he repeated more silently.

"You're losing popularity," Charles said suddenly.

"You don'ts just says somethings like that's!" Toki yelped.

"Well, I'm sorry, but you weren't giving me a chance to say anything. And we have no time! We have to do something now," Ofednsen defended himself.

"What do you mean, losing popularity?" Nathan inquired, "We're the biggest, most brutal band ever!"

"Yes, you are. But apparently, your brutality isn't appealing to the audience any more," Charles explained. Toki and Skwissgaar kept nodding but Charles knew they didn't understand a word of what he was saying.

"How can we be less popular? We jest released a new album!" Pickles said.

"I'll show you," Charles said.

"Show? How?" Nathan grumbled.

"I know where they rehearse," the manager explained.

***

_Here's__to__the__people__, __who__inspired__me__and__to__the__old__hags__, __who__gave__me__the__final__push__._


	2. Ch2 'Vegas', Meet Dethklok

Chapter 2 - 'Vegas', meet Dethklok.

"Livvie!"

"Hmmm?"

"Did you order 10 pizzas?"

"Yeh. I figured we'd get hungry after a while," said Livvie stated, as she entered the huge main room of an abandoned factory/storehouse they had bought for their band rehearsals.

"Who's paying?" asked another member of the raising star Stay in Vegas. The solo guitarist to be exact.

"Come on Fish. You and your materialism…" Livvie sighed mockingly, "Even Andy isn't worried and he's the poorest of us all."

"True and true," the drummer agreed, "I never have any money."

"That's because _you_ spend all your money on tequila and cars," said Bex, who'd just entered the room with Sir. None of the three already in the room knew, how long Bex and Sir had been lurking in the shadows. Still, "Hey, guys!" Livvie chirped, ever the cheerful one.

"Let's get cracking, shall we?" Andy suggested with a strong Scottish accent, the small argument already forgotten.

"Right. 'Control'. SPENCER!" Livvie shouted to their man in the booth 20 feet above the ground, right under the ceiling (if you could call it that). Spencer was the one responsible for the sound, lights, show and so on.

In Livvie's opinion, the two things that made 'Vegas' famous, were their perfect sound, even at live performances, and their well rehearsed show (well, she and Sir _were_ strange that way: both so demanding and with such high standards to themselves and others, that every rehearsal was a live show to them, thus, they always got on Spence's nerves, being unbelievably bitchy about, well, everything.) both at least partially the favour of Spencey-boy. "Hey! Spencer! 'Control'!"

"I know, I know. I heard you the first time. I have the ears of a bat."

"Sure you do, you git," Andy mocked.

_The __Gossip__ - __Standing __in __the __Way __of __Control_

_A__.__N__. __I__, __uh__, __took __the __liberty __of __making __all __the __songs __'Vegas' __sing __theirs__, __because __I __can't __write __songs__, __e__.__g__. __The __Gossip __never wrote __Standing __in __the __Way __of __Control__. __I __absolutely __did __not __have __any __right __to __do __that__. __Sorry__._

*BANG*

"Murderface, why don'ts you ams buys a muffler?" Toki complained, "I don'ts likes the bangs."

"You're shuch a grandpa!"

"I ams not!" Toki whined.

"Ha-ha, you're a grandpas!" Skwissgaar mocked.

"You flincheds too!" Toki said, his voice almost an octave higher than usually.

"I DID NOT!"

"Actually, you did," Bex interrupted, "You early jumped out of your… eh, boots or whatever you call 'em."

"He calls the boots," Pickles said stupidly.

"Eh, yes. I was, uh, being sarcastic. I'm… Bex," she said to no one in particular, as Dethklok was already "otherwise engaged": Skwissgaar was belittling 'Vegas' lead guitarist Fish (what he didn't expect, however, was Fish lashing out at him in a language, he didn't understand. That earned a laugh from Livvie and caused her to say: "Koit, kallis, ta vist ei saa sinust aru."*), Pickles was stealing Andy's tequila (Andy was occupied… with another tequila bottle.) and Toki, Murderface and Nathan were begging Spencer to blind them with one of the lasers.

"Hello, Liivia," Charles Ofdensen approached Livvie from behind and nearly made her heart stop.

"What?! How do you know me?!" she screeched.

"I don't. You're famous. Random people knowing your name and biography is something you should expect," Charles explained.

"Right. Sorry," Livvie sighed, "What's going on? What is the most famous band in the world doing in our storehouse?"

"Ah-a. but they aren't the most famous band in the world. YOU are the most famous now." Charles said.

"So that's why you're here. Came to blackmail us? Bring. It. On," she became defensive at once.

"Now why would you think that?" Charles said with mock-innocence.

"You're the manager of the Dethklok, who just happens to be the worst sort of mob out there. A certain reputation is something you should expect, " Livvie said, repeating Ofdensen's words from before.

"You're smart, I'll give you that," Charles said, trying to hide the menace.

"You expected this to be easy, didn't you?" Livvie replied, picking up on it anyway.

"I won't give up. Dethklok is my bread and butter."

"I like a challenge," Livvie replied, shaking hands with Charles: a silent promise to keep this legal and gentlemanly.

'Lord knows Dethklok can't handle another scandal,' Charles thought to himself, "Let's go! The Dethcopter is waiting for us."

"NO!" all five deathmetalists shouted together.

"What?" Ofdensen was shocked.

"We want to see them rehearse," Nathan growled.

"One song only!" Sir said.

"Spence! 'Misery'!"

_Paramore__ - __Misery __Business_

*Translation of what Livvie said to Fish: "Koit (a traditional name in Estonia), honey, I don't think he understands you."

_Happy Birthday! 2nd November 2008. Katrina._

***

_Here's __to __the __people __who __make __me __obsess __with __various __subjects__._


	3. Ch3 The Tribunal

Chapter 3 - The Tribunal

_Ominous__music_

"Gentlemen," the usual greeting caught the Tribunal's attention once again, "It seems Dethklok is being shadowed by a new and much less agreeable band - 'Stay in Vegas'."

"Less agreeable? How is that possible?" the general asked.

"You'll see," senator Stamsington said.

"Liivia Pilv," he said, mispronouncing the name*, as a picture of a brown haired and rather beautiful looking young woman appeared on the screens, "the lead singer."

"Koit 'Fish' Juht, the solo guitarist," he said, the picture showed a dark blonde man, who was about 18 years old.

"Rebecca 'Bex' Jones, the lead guitarist," Bex, who changed her style weekly, had a truly shocking look on that picture: neon blue spiked hair, a monroe and and eyebrow piercing and henna-tattooed Celtic symbols on her face. Her look caused the conservative Tribunal to gasp involuntarily.

"Siriannah Marie "Sir" Bush, the bassist," Sir, being a hardcore gothic lolita, didn't shock the Tribunal any less than Bex.

"And last but not least, Andy Thomson, the drummer," the picture of the red headed Scot was essentially a mugshot.

"I still don't see, how they could be a bigger problem or less agreeable than Dethklok."

"General, be patient," Mr. Selaticia said.

"All five members of 'Stay in Vegas' are educated. Unlike Dethklok, all of them have either graduated from an university or are attending one, Ms. Bush even has a master's degree in law." he said, "To explain further, I have invited a dean of psychology from Frommer's University, the very same university where Bush and Jones got their degrees. Mr. Smith."

"Siriannah Bush is a highly intelligent individual. However, she has been allowed to be overly independent from a young age. She has mastered the art of manipulating people. Should she decide to share her skills with her bandmates and use it on their fanbase…oh, we're all doomed."

"My god…," the general uttered the traditional response, "What do we do? Should we start supporting Dethklok?"

"We will let fate decide. Be patient," Mr. Selaticia said, effectively ending the meeting once again.

*It's easy to mispronounce Estonian names, because in Estonian, words are pronounced exactly how they are written, no "th" etc.

***

_Here's__to__my__families__, __both__of__them__._


	4. Ch4 Toki Wartooth and the Infamous

Chapter 4 - Toki Wartooth and the Infamous Bowl of Candy

"Excellent drum solo, Andy!" Sir cheered and patted Andy on the back, accidentally stabbing him with one of her metal spiked rings. He was used to it, tho.

"Well, ye ken… Reese me, aw o' ye!*" Andy baffled the band, yet again speaking in Scottish English.

"Andy, don't push your luck," Fish said, irritated that he didn't understand what the drummer had just said.

"Ye ken, actually Ah can play th' drums too," Livvie said with a clear Scottish accent, shocking Andy even more that the rest of the band, who knew of Liivia's polyglot-ish tendencies (Andy either drank too much and forgot or, being the newest member of the band, just didn't know) "Sae yoo're nae irreplaceable."

"Livvie, ye bonnie quinie, yoo're jist foo ay surprises, arenae ye!" Andy grinned.

"Och, yeh. Ye didne ken Ah spick Scottish tay," Livvie shot back with a wink.

"Stop it! Both of you! You're driving me to insanity!" Fish shouted impatiently.

"Fine, fine. You're no fun to tease," Livvie sighed.

"Now you know how we feel when you and Livvie go around speaking your language, whatever it's called," Andy defended himself.

"It's Estonian. Es-_to_-ni-an. And it aint' the same. I'm supposed to _understand_what you're saying. It's English."

"No, it's Scottish. Don't get the two confused. And you don't speak Scottish, so don't sweat it," Andy consoled Fish.

"Guys, could you come here for a tick!" Sir called from the front door.

"Jeerum, mida nad nüüd tegid…," Fish sighed. He was utterly surprised when he received a headslap from Andy: "You just don't learn, do ye?"

Outside the factory stood the Murdercycle, Dethklok still sitting in their usual seats.

"Jesus motherfricking Christ! What are you doing here?" Livvie asked.

"Thank god, I was feeling entirely too sober," Andy said, approaching Pickles, "Come, my friend. A very good friend of mine, namely the Green Fairy, is waiting for us." The last time the drummers met, they hit it off right away. After hearing that Andy had absinth, Pickles' pace quickened noticeably.

"We wanted to talk to you," Nathan grumbled.

"Ofdensen has gones totally insanes because of yous!" Toki squeaked, a very un-metal thing to do. He realised it after receiving glares from Murderface, Nathan and Skwissgaar.

"Well, under any other circumstance, I'd be flattered, but I'm guessing it's not good?" Livvie asked.

"He makes us practise all the times," Skwissgaar said, "We hates it."

"Practicing all the time is sort of your job actually. You're a world famous band. You have to be the best to remain in the top," Bex explained with a lot of hand gestures, her inarguably true words making her the second one to be at the receiving end of Dethklok's glares.

"Well what do you want us to do? It isn't our problem, after all," Fish said.

"Hey, be civil!" Bex mock-chastised him.

"You don't help us and we'll make it your problem, how about that?" Nathan threatened.

"Yeah, by me… uh…" Murderface tried to come up with something even remotely witty.

"Yeees?" Sir pretended to be listening intently, while Bex batted her lashes at the Nathan and Murderface.

"Pfft, thanks Murderface, "Skwissgaar said.

"Yeah, thanks for EMs.

BARRASSING US!!!" Toki yelled suddenly, making Fish jump.

"Have you am beens eatings too much candys again?" Skwissgaar asked Toki impatiently.

"Maybe you should find some other endorsement?" Nathan suggested.

"You can'ts controls me! I cans handles myselfs!" Toki yelled suddenly in his diabetic paranoia. Bex and Livvie caught on at once.

"Oh no, baby," Bex said, trying to calm Toki down, "They're not trying to control you…"

"…They just want you to share your, uh, lovely candy with me and Bexie here," Livvie continued.

"No we don't!" Murderface yelled obnoxiously, causing Skwissgaar to punch him in the stomach 'discreetly'. Bex and Liivia steered Toki away from the others, as Murderface turned around slowly to face Skwissgaar, shooting him a dangerous look that left no room to the question of what was about to happen.

What followed… Let's just say it resulted in quite a few… black eyes.

*Translation of the Scottish lines:

"Well, you know… Praise me, all of you!"

"You know, actually I can play the drums too. So you're not irreplaceable."

"Livvie, you lovely missy, you're just full of surprises, aren't you!"

"Oh, yeah. You didn't know I speak Scottish too."

Translation of the Estonian lines:

"Jeepers, what did they do now…"

***

_Here's__to__the__three__-__sixties__that__made__me__remember_.


	5. Ch5 ‘Ninconpoop’ is a great word

Chapter 5 - 'Ninconpoop' is a great word.

"OwowowowOW!" Fish screamed as Liivia tried to clean the gash on his forehead.

"Oh, shut up. It's not that bad," Livvie sighed silently.

"Me oleme kahekesi. Miks sa inglise keeles räägid?" Fish asked Livvie, for some reason surprised enough to raise his eyebrows (which, of course was a bad idea, because it shifted the band-aid. Again.).

"Because we need the practice. Moron," Livvie replied.

"I'm a moron because I didn't know that?" Fish was amazed.

"No I-… Never mind." she sighed

"And we don't need the practice. We speak English just fine. It we were practicing Scottish, I'd get it," Fish replied.

"…But we're not. Fine. I get it. You want to practice?" Livvie offered.

"Not now," He replied, then hissed in pain once more, as Livvie cleaned the wound again.

"You two okay?" Bex asked, approaching them, holding an icebag to her left temple.

"I am. Don't know about the big baby here, tho," Livvie answered, putting another band-aid on to Fish's gash.

"I'm no baby. Head wounds are the most painful ones," Fish defended.

"I second that," Bex agreed.

"Done. Don't frown for a while. I'm so not doing that again," she said, throwing away the cotton pads and putting away the vodka she used to clean the gash. "You're welcome."

"Thanks," Fish replied almost too quietly for anyone to hear.

"It's quite a place they have here, ain't it?" Bex said, looking around in the biggest room in Mordhaus.

"I wonder how many different channels they have on at the same time…" Livvie agreed, looking at the huge wall covered in 42" TV's.

"Only you could possibly be interested in something like that," Sir said, startling Bex, Livvie and Fish, as they didn't know that Sir had been laying on a couch in the furthest corner of the room, "Wonder how many different games they have here… Jesus I'm dizzy."

"I'm not. You should learn from my actions. Never interrupt people in the middle of a fight," Livvie said, "Then again, I _did_ end up playing doctor for Fish…"

"That's because you're too nice for your own good."

"Any of you seen Andy lately?" Fish asked, re-entering the room after checking his gash in the bathroom.

"I hope he's sobering up. We never finished at the factory," Bex said, playing with her now straight platinum blonde hair.

"Dude, lighten up. We're famous now," Fish said confidently.

"Wrong. The more famous we get, the less we can 'lighten up'. In fact, the more famous we get, the more we have to practice."

"Dang. And here I thought that being famous was fun," Fish said ironically.

"You'd better practice hard, otherwise I'll take your 'solo guitarist' title away, Fishie,"

Bex teased him.

"I'm not the fish any more. Isn't it time you stopped calling me that?" Fish tried to get rid of his annoying nickname.

"What? And start calling you Koit? Not bloody likely," Bex said.

"You know, for a chick who likes being infamous and feared and so on… You do a lot of babytalk," Fish said, trying to piss Bex off.

"With my tattoos and piercings… a little babytalk can't hurt my reputation."

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of two maniacs laughing… well, manically. Their eyes nearly popped out when Andy and Pickles ran into the room, holding on to each other to keep from toppling over.

"Think about it: ninconpoop! T's like… POOP!" Andy screamed and Pickles clutched his stomach, laughing hysterically and overall, sounding like an electrified chicken in Livvie's opinion.

"I don't think we're gonna get to that rehearsal today," Fish drawled, stating the obvious.

"Poop-poop-poop!" the two drummers hollered together, concentrating on the word all too much (in anyone's but theirs opinion).

"People, we should seriously consider hiring a manager to take care of this instead of us," Bex said, shaking her head.

"Maybe," Fish said.

"Without a shadow of doubt," Livvie agreed, "but now is not the time to discuss that."

"You think?" Sir asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "My head is killing me, Bex's head probably too, Fish is busy whining and Andy… Don't even get me started on Andy!"

"Okay, Andy. Andy. Andy! Oh for Chris's sake, ANDY!" Livvie got angry.

"Wha?" Andy snapped out of his daze, "Wha' 'appened?" he asked, his accent more obvious than ever.

"You out of drinks yet?" Livvie asked hopefully.

"Never!" he laughed, crushing Livvies hopes for a moment, but then, "but no, I don't want any more today. 'm done," he assured.

"You'd better look for something good for your hangover," she said evilly, "Rehearsal tomorrow at 9."

"You're the devil!" Andy yelled, "Seriously! You're evil!"

"Yeah, and you're shitfaced," Fish said silently.

***

_Here's __to __taking __a __breather__._


	6. Ch6 Chinese and UST

Chapter 6 - Chinese and U.S.T.

Livvie was pissed. No, scratch that. Livvie was amazed she didn't glow red. She _could_ blame Sir for buying him the absinth for Christmas, but he probably would've gotten his hands on it anyway in time. She could blame Pickles, but Livvie was sure the drummer didn't knock him out and force the drink down his throat. Truthfully, she was thinking of people to hire to kill Andy. And the list was _not_ short.

"Oh seriously. We can't do it much longer without Andy," Bex groaned, "We just made 'Killing Lights' sound like a friggin ballad."

"And that's an abomination," Sir agreed, "I can't afford people to think I'm going soft. I'm too hardcore."

"Yeah, we get it. We can't do it without Andy," Fish said, still suffering from a headache from the gash on his head.

Suddenly, everything clicked in Livvie's head: "No, not without Andy. Without a drummer."

"Yeah, that's what I said," Fish stated, scratching his neck, "I think. But I'm not sure… I'm still a little groggy."

"I can tell," Bex mumbled.

"No, Livvie. Bad. Idea," Sir said suddenly, realisation hitting her.

"What? What?!" Fish was panicking.

"Livvie wants to replace Andy," Bex explained.

"What?!" he shouted once more, then, "Oh, wait. Okay."

"You're actually okay with it? I can't believe you're okay with it!" Bex screamed, while Sir just looked displeased. "What can I say?" Fish raised his hands in mock-defence, "The fucker needs a lesson."

"Yeah, sure he does. I agree. But not like that," Sir said, "Not at the cost of our band."

"We can't just replace him," Bex close-to-whined, "That's cruel. And as you've noticed I'm not cruel."

"You're not cruel right _now_!" Fish argued.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" Bex yelled at him.

"I _mean_, you're style changes _at__least_ once a month. That's what I mean."

"I can hurt you!" Bex threatened.

"Let me guess: Everyone changes their style once in a while!" Bex justified herself.

"Once a week is not once in a while!"

Meanwhile, Sir had sauntered over to where Liivia was standing.

"U.S.T*.," Livvie said.

"You think?" Sir replied sarcastically.

"They do put on a good show," Livvie added after a while.

"Do you think they know?" Sir asked.

"Dude, look at them," Livvie said as if it was obvious, "They are so busy bitching with each other like an old married couple that I doubt they'd notice if we dropped dead right now."

Spencer walked up to them: "You know, no offence intended, but seriously. I have better things to do than listen to Bex and Fish bicker."

"It's not bickering, stupid," Sir said, smiling.

"Yeah. It's U.S.T.," Livvie added.

"It's what?" Spencer questioned.

"U.S.T.," Sir answered.

"Come again?" he asked again, crossing his arms not liking that he didn't understand something the girls said.

"Just Google it," Sir suggested, her thoughts miles away.

"Sure," he said, unconvinced, "Okay, can I go? Seriously."

"Yeah. Go. It's not like we're going to get any work done today anymore anyway," Livvie sighed. Spencer practically ran to get his things.

"Wonder why he's in such a hurry…," Sir smiled. After a while, the two women got tired of watching Bex and Fish spit fire at each other.

"You hungry?" Sir asked suddenly.

"I could eat," Livvie replied.

"Pizza?"

"Chinese."

"Deal. Bye, guys!" Sir shouted.

"Yeah, bye lovers!" Livvie shouted.

"What?!" the other two hollered in unison.

"Shit. RUN!" Sir screamed.

*U.S.T. - Unrelieved Sexual Tension. If you want to know more, well… J.G.I.

***

_Here's __to __the __ones who __care __enough __to __chastise __me__._


	7. Ch7 Don’t Touch Skwissy’s Guitar Ever

Chapter 7 - Don't Touch Skwissy's Guitar. Ever.

"TOKI!!!"

"Skwissgaar, takes it easies!"

"I AMS WILL KILL YOUS, YOU DILDOES!"

The next thing heard was a few minutes of mixed shouted Norwegian and Swedish jibberish.

"Uuuhhhh… You think we should, you know, uh stop them?" Nathan asked.

"Mother douchbeg. Nngh," Pickles moved himself, whining and knocking a few beer cans over in the process, "Murderface, you go."

"No! I don't wanna!"

"Murderface, goddammnit. Go!" Nathan ordered.

"Oh, shure, shend the fat one, will you," Murderface complained.

"Dood…"

"I guessh I'm sho worthless, you can order me around,"

"Dood, Murderface. Fine, I'll feckin' go meself."

"No, you don't have to…" Murderface sighed, "I'll…"

"Pleese, jest shut up. I'm goin'" Pickles said, knowing full that Murderface would _never_ stop complaining if he was _made_ to do something.

"DILDO TOKIS!"

"Christ's sake, will those two ever stop…" Pickles mumbled to himself. A sudden crash made him jump. He soon realised that an amp had just been thrown out of Skwissgaar's room.

"Da hell…" Pickles whispered. He walked into the room to find Skwissgaar and Toki fighting in a heap on the floor. "What tha feck is goin' on?" Pickles barked over Toki and Skwissgaar yelling angrily at each other. Skwissgaar pushed Toki off him and stood up: "Dis little dildoes touched my guitars!" Skwissgaar accused.

"I justs wants to plays it…!" Toki whined.

"Playings my guitars won't make you any more gooders!"

"I swear to god, ye two are like fecking ladies…" Pickles teased.

"WE ARE NOT!" Skwissgaar defended himself fiercely, not realising the favour he did to Toki.

"Yeah, we aren't!" Toki (for obvious reasons) agreed with Skwissgaar.

"You are, maybes," said Swede mocked.

"Dood ye jest said you aint'…" Pickles reasoned.

"Yeah, am I _ams_ a dude," Skwissgaar proudly said.

"No, you saids-"

"I AM NOT!" Skwissgaar lost it.

"Toki, jest… Give up," Pickles sighed, "Why were you playing Skwissy's guitar anyway?"

Toki sighed and said: "I ams buying a new ones."

"So yous were ams doing… what?! Skwissgaar inquired.

"I ams famous. Walking into a guitars shop is diffiquilt," Toki said simply.

"Difficult," Pickles corrected.

"Yes, diffiquilt," Toki repeated.

"No, dif-fi-cult," Pickles slowly said.

"But that's whats I saids!" Toki cried, "Stops copies me!"

"You said it wrong! DIFFICULT!"

"DIF-FI-QUELT!" Toki yelled back.

"YE TWO ARE SO FRUSTRATING!" Pickles fumed, then stomped out of Skwissgaar and down the hall angrily. The last thing he heard from Pickles' room was an innocent: "What's up with Pickle?"

"Jest don't ask," Pickles warned when he re-entered the games room, "Jest don't."

***

_Here's __to __constructive __AND __unfair __criticism__._


	8. Ch 8 With Dethklok, Starting

Chapter 8 - With Dethklok, Starting a Riot is All Too Easy.

Dethklok was having their usual breakfast.

"Milords, these five dared to breach the borders of Mordland. Shall I shoot them?" an employee asked the five sitting behind the huge dining table at the enormous dining room, as seven other employees escorted 'Vegas' into the room.

"No. Leave us," Nathan spoke up and the glorified bodyguards left.

"And here I was, thinking the games room was big," Sir hummed.

"Äkki nad kompenseerivad midagi?*" Fish asked in Estonian, just to be safe.

"What are you doing here?" Nathan asked.

"Paying a visit. You violated our personal space, we're just returning the favour," Bex explained.

"You already were here," Pickles stated.

"Eeh, that wasn't planned," Andy said.

"What's the matter? You aint' happy to see us?" Livvie asked with a mock-pout.

"Uh. This is an invasion of privacy…," Pickles began.

"I have rum!" Andy said quickly.

"…that is most welcome," Pickles finished his sentence, his tone of voice changing suddenly.

"That's ma boy," Andy smiled.

"Is he always that predictable?" Sir asked, after the drummers left.

"Ja," Toki answered.

"Uh, question," Livvie raised her hand, "How the hell do you find your way around this place?"

"Do you, like, have a map or something?" Fish added.

"Uh, do yous get lost in your houses?" Skwissgaar made his point.

"Good point," Bex agreed.

"Gamesh room?" Murderface suggested.

_And __a __few __hours __later…_

Charles Ofdensen hoped that Dethklok understood that maximizing their practice time was vital to the survival of their fame. Or what was left of it, anyway. He stopped in front of a mirror. Yep, the last few weeks, 'Vegas' growing fame had definitely given him more gray hairs than the whole time spent with Dethklok. 'Stop. Voices,' he halted, nearing the games room. 'Women. Oh, god. Please let them be here willingly. Not like the last time… Man it took a lot of resources to clean that mess up,' Charles thought. He took a few quick steps and nearly fell over, when he saw what was going on in there. Vegas. And Dethklok. Getting along and not killing each other. Psh, scratch that. Getting along? They were playing. Games.

"What is going on here?" he asked, not sure he could actually make a sound.

"We're playing," Murderface said, "What doesh it look like?"

"Fine, I'll rephrase. What the fresh hell are _you_," he said, pointing at Livvie, "doing here?"

"The guys invited us," Andy, who'd ran out of rum and crawled back to the others with Pickles, lied.

"No we didn'ts!" Toki yelled from the DDR.

"Yes, you did. Sure you did," Sir assured with an overly sweet voice.

"Idiots," Pickles mumbled.

Meanwhile, Liivia had walked over to Ofdensen: "We need to talk."

"About what?" Charles asked, "We have nothing to talk about, I believe"

"You'll find that we do," Livvie shot back.

"Fine, but not now," he decided, then shouted, "Dethklok to the studio! You need to practise! Chop-chop!" What he didn't expect was starting a riot by doing so.

"You robot!" Murderface yelled, the other four agreeing in various ways. Charles sighed and gave a not to Liivia. It read: 'Tomorrow noon at the Duncan Hills coffee-shop downtown.' When Ofdensen had scribbled it, Livvie had no idea.

* Translation of what Fish said. "Maybe they're trying to compensate something?"

***

_Here's __to __the __too __high __demands__._


	9. Ch9 Black Coffee

Chapter 9 - Black Coffee

"You're late," Ofdensen stated once Livvie had sat down at their table at the café five minutes past noon.

"No, you're early," she smiled.

"Do I have to show you my watch?"

"Targem annab järele,*" she inhaled, "Fine. I'm five minutes late. I'm sawry," she said with a bad Pickles impression.

"Let's talk business and get this over with, shall we?" Charles pressed.

"Is talking to me really that unpleasant to you?" she mocked. When Ofdensen's expression stayed unmoved, she said: "Fine. I have a proposition."

"And what could you possibly have to offer me?" he sat back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"A job," she said, leaning forward.

Charles laughed: "A job? 'Sweetheart', I'm Dethklok's manager. I have enough money to never need a job again."

"You sure, 'darling'? Dethklok," she reasoned, "is quickly losing its popularity."

"You threatening me?" Charles asked leaning forward again and lowering his voice, the act of a friendly businessman evaporating and changing into something a lot more dangerous.

"You're paranoid," Liivia replied, "I already told you. I'm offering you a job."

"And what would that be?" Charles snickered.

"A job as what you do best. A job as a manager."

"Whose manager?"

" 'Vegas' doesn't have a manager. Never did, actually." Livvie revealed.

"You serious?" he was surprised, "How did you get famous without one?"

"Me. And Sir. And a buttload of luck."

"And why now?" he asked, "You've made it. The hardest part is over."

"Is it? Is it easy for (or with) Dethklok?" she asked.

"Dethklok is an entirely different matter."

"Well, I can tell you: the drummers are _incredibly_ similar," Livvie smiled, remembering how well they had clicked.

"Stop," Charles said suddenly.

"Stop? Stop what, exactly?" Livvie seemed almost frightened by Charles' sudden reaction.

"Why are you…," he died off, "Why on earth would you be nice to me?"

"Charlie," she said, using another (in Charles' mind) irritating pet name, "I live by the code 'Nii, nagu sina teistele, nõnda teised sinule.'"

"Come again?"

"As you act towards others, the others will act towards you. And it is unbelievably true."

"Your coffees," a waitress stopped by their table.

"So you think I'll be nice to you now?" he asked.

"You already are," she replied.

"Talking to you is risky, you know," Charles said suddenly after a few moments of silence, "I never know what you're making me do."

She laughed, then asked: "So? Are you taking me up on my offer?"

"I don't know. What did your 'co-manager' say?"

"I'm not sure she was even conscious when we discussed it," Liivia tried to remember the situation under question.

"Oh," he said, "So, basically _you_ are offering me a job before having discussed it with the others."

"Charlie, baby, I'm the sane and sober soul in the sea of stupidity. Sir and Bex are constantly challenging each other to be more 'rock and roll', Andy is just a drunk and Fish… Well, he wasn't too smart to start with."

"So they listen to you," he calmed a bit.

"So they listen to me," she assured.

"I'll think about it, Livvie."

"Hmm, I think that's the first time you've actually called me that," she said thoughtfully.

"Well, don't get used to it," he retorted, "I think I might me having an aneurysm. I'll think about your offer."

"You'll find me, when you've made up my mind," she said mysteriously.

"I will?" he teased.

"If you want the job, you will," she said, as he left to take care of Dethklok again. It was like babysitting a rebellious litter of puppies in Livvie's opinion. You never know what they think of next. And as Livvie left, she hoped to god that Charles would take her up on her offer.

* Translation of what Liivia said: "The smarter one gives in."

_Happy Birthday, Uku! 16.11.08 _

_Katrina_

***

_Here's__ to __the __ones __who __give __me __ideas__, __both__ bad __and __good__._


	10. Ch10 Horribly Dangerous, Incredibly Hot

Chapter 10 - Horribly Dangerous, Incredibly Hot.

"Guys!" Livvie called out when she opened the door to the band's penthouse. The five of them already spent so much time together as a band, that living together was just the next logical and inevitable step. "Yoo-hoo! Awaken! Awaken!" she growled, copying Dethklok's song.

"I am awake!" Andy growled right back.

"Stop iiit!" Sir screeched, "We aint' a metal fucking band!"

"Let's change style!" Bex chirped happily.

"Yea, let's!" Fish chirped along sarcastically.

"Don't," Livvie shouted, "Start. Again! Please?"

"You're _not_ getting away with this," Bex threatened Fish silently.

"OH! I'm so scared!" Fish shivered.

"Meeting in the studio in five," Livvie said, "I'll go change my clothes."

_Five__minutes__later_

"I found us a manager!" Livvie said happily.

"Huh?!" Fish made a donkey-sound, while Andy just fell off the chair.

"A manager! Isn't that great!" she repeated, beginning to doubt herself.

"What good does _that_ do us?" Sir asked aggressively.

"Why not!" Bex agreed with Livvie.

"Because we _built_ 'Vegas'!" Sir replied, "I'm not gonna let some baboon take the credit!"

"Uh, no one knows we don't have a manager anyway," Livvie said.

"And how do _you_know that?!" Sir asked, starting to get angry.

"Because _you_ don't know who I asked!"

"Girls, behave!" Andy tried to avoid a fight between the two leaders of the band.

"Shove your peacetalks where sun does _not_ shine!" Sir now attacked Andy.

"Crickey," he scratched his forehead, "I aint' disturbin' those two any more, then…"

By that time, Liivia and Sir were standing only inches away from each other.

"You know, if this wasn't horribly dangerous, it'd be incredibly hot," Fish said dreamily, earning a headslap form Bex.

"Jealous?" Andy mouthed to her, missing Bex sending him a death glare. They we're all brought back to reality by a crash, when Livvie landed on top of Sir, the two of them rolling in a heap in the floor.

"I'll scratch your eyes out!"

"Well, BRING IT ON, Barbie!"

"See? Incredibly hot," Fish said, then he and Andy ran over to the two on the floor, trying to pry them off each other.

"Hey! Liv!" Bex yelled from across the room, "You're supposed to be telling us who you asked to be our mana-" she was cut short when Sir _roared_. "Never mind, you can do that later!"

"WE DON'T NEED A MANAGER!" Sir screamed.

"YES, WE DO!" Livvie screamed back.

"Ah, we don't _need_ one…," Fish said slowly.

"Mh, yes we do," Bex said back.

"Why? We're okay," Fish said casually.

"Yeah, well, you're… well, you," Bex replied.

"Aye! What's that supposed to mean?" he seemed hurt.

"Well, you aren't exactly the most _sensitive_ person, are you?"

_Another__five__minutes__later__._

A full blown war was raging in the Vegas penthouse. A food fight, to be precise.

"Sir! I've got yoghurt!" Fish crouched with Sir behind the couch.

"You, my friend are a genius," Sir smiled diabolically.

"How do we use it?" he asked.

"We sneak up behind her," Sir replied.

"Them," Fish corrected.

"Wha?" she asked.

"Them. Not her," he repeated, "I'm on a warpath too!"

"Yeh, them."

In the other end of the room, another plan was being formed.

"So how do we use the apples and the eggs?"

"Throw 'em, of course."

"Throw apples?" Bex was suspicious, "Don't you think they'll get hurt?"

"Honey," Liivia sighed, "Do I look like I give a damn about their well-being right now?"

"Right," Bex inhaled and the two of them sprung out from behind the corner and aimed their 'ammo' behind the couch. A muffled howl later Sir and Fish hopped onto the couch in a very chuck-norris-way. A few good bumps and cartons of yoghurt later, the four paused.

"_Where_," Livvie slapped her forehead, "is Andy?"

"Crap, we forgot the drunk!" Sir said, while Bex's mouth formed a perfect 'o'. Andy simply trotted out of his room, a trail of smoke following him.

"I don't see a drunk," Fish said, "I just see a pothead," as Andy walked through the mess of yoghurt and egg yokes.

"Ooh, an apple!" he chirped suddenly. The doorbell broke the silence that had formed.

"_Who_ has he perfect timing of coming here _now_?" Fish sighed.

"Charlie!" Andy shouted cheerfully from the door he'd just opened.

"You asked _Ofdensen_to be our manager?" Sir asked.

"Uh-huh," Livvie answered.

"Well, why didn't you just say so?" Sir smirked.

"What would that have changed?"

"Oh, I only would have said yes in a heartbeat."

"You would have?" Liv asked like she couldn't believe it.

"He's a cool fella," Fish said and Bex agreed.

"Sometimes," Livvie said, "I think I am going insane."

"I take it I'm hired?" Ofdensen asked, walking up to Liivia.

"Just don't expect me to get that contract done any time this… month."

"I can do that myself."

"I think… You'll do just fine with us."

***

_Here's__to__general__craziness__._


	11. Ch11 Can We Go Back

Chapter 11 - Can We Go Back to Being Insane Now?

Telling Dethklok he'd also be managing 'Vegas' from now on was never something he thought he'd have to do. "I need to talk to you," he said, walking into Dethklok's studio.

"We're already practicing, butler," Murderface said.

"Nerves of Iron," Liivia said, looking in from behind the door.

"I wasn't going to talk about that. But you're doing good, yes," Charles said.

"Of cources we ams, We ams all the most gooders in the universes. Except Tokis, maybes." Skwissgaar said, making Toki go red in the face.

"Poor baby," Bex cooed from the corridor.

"Guys! Guys!" Charles tried to get Dethklok's attention. "HEY!"

"Told you I could get a rise out of him," Nathan said.

"Not funny!" Charles said, "I'm serious. The _subject_ is serious."

"What is it, then?" Toki asked.

"I'm going to manage 'Stay in Vegas' from now on."

"Whys yous ams leaves us?!" Toki cried.

"I'm not leaving you," he calmly explained, "I'm just taking up another responsibility."

"I'm not giving tchem my room!" Murderface exclaimed with his lisp.

A muffles 'Christ's sake!' and a bang on the door later, 'Stay in Vegas' was standing in Dethklok's studio.

"We don't want your rooms!" Sir snapped.

"Yeah, we have our penthouse," Andy added.

"Damn!" Pickles swore.

"Ach don't worry, mate. Ye'r always welcome in me house!" Andy grinned.

"No!" all the women in the room yelped together.

"Feck ye," Andy mumbled, "I'll invite them to Spencey's house, then!"

"You do that…" Fish said.

"Fine, I will!"

"Fine, you do!" Fish shot again, holding back a laugh.

"Are theys like thats all the times?" Skwissgaar asked Ofdensen.

"I have yet to find out," he replied.

"Ey, Charlie!" Livvie shouted, "Can we go back to being normal now?"

"Pfft. Can we go back to being _us_ now?" Andy said.

***

Here's to life!


	12. Epilogue

Epilogue - The Metalocalypse is Never Over.

"…She's a gunshot bride,-" Livvie sang.

BANG!

'Gods, not again,' she thought.

"See ma'? No gunsh!" Murderface yelled.

"OFDENSEN!" Sir screamed, "Control your band, dammit!"

"You try doing that…" he grumbled as he walked through the door.

"Why ye here, mates?" Andy asked, walking/falling over to Pickles, "Out of alco already?"

"Nah, we jest want ta try out yer equipment," Pickles said.

"Yeahs, we ams… wants to… tries outs your… equippaments!" Toki said happily.

"You dildo-licker. It ams calleds equipiaments," Skwissgaar tried to seem smarter. Needless to say, he failed.

"Well, can we try out your's?" Bex asked, purposefully avoiding the word 'equipment'.

"Oh, 'fcourshe not!" Murderface yelled.

"Well, then hard cheese, 'mate'," Fish tried to do an Andy-impression.

"We'll fight you for it," Nathan threatened.

"Bring. It. On," Sir shot back.

"Should've never taken Liv up on her offer," Charles sighed.


End file.
